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  “Why don’t you go back there with Serena?”

  “All right. Jube, why don’t you go with your big brother and keep him out of trouble?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Jubal said, “but you know what the sheriff said.”

  “What did the sheriff say?” Serena asked.

  Evan patted her on the shoulder and said, “I’ll tell you when we get back to the house.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sheriff Kelly hated to be the one to tell Lincoln Burkett about his men, but since all of his men were dead, there was no one else. As soon as the McCall brothers left his office he went to the livery for his horse and rode out there. He was met at the front of the house by the foreman, Chuck Conners.

  Conners had been expecting his men back from town with news about Sam McCall. When he saw Sheriff Kelly riding hell bent for leather through the gate and toward the house, he had a bad feeling.

  “What can I do for you, Sheriff? Second visit today,” Conners said.

  “I’m afraid I have bad news, Mr. Conners,” Kelly said. He saw his chance to avoid talking to Burkett himself.

  “What kind of bad news?”

  “Well, it seems that some of your men got into a shootout with Sam McCall.”

  “Is that right? Kill him, did they? Are they in your jail?”

  “Uh, no sir, they’re at the undertaker’s.”

  “All of them?” Conners asked. “McCall killed all of them?”

  “Well, he had some help from his brothers.”

  “Damn.”

  “I know, it’s a terrible shame,” Kelly said. “I don’t know what got into those men, but Sam McCall is the kind of man who—”

  “I’ll tell Mr. Burkett about this, Sheriff,” Conners said, interrupting him.

  “Would you? I’d really appreciate—”

  “Tell me something, Sheriff.”

  “What?”

  “How did you find out about this?”

  “I, uh, heard the shooting—”

  “I thought you were supposed to be watching the McCalls.”

  “Uh, yeah, well, there is three of them, and I was watchin’ one of the others, see—”

  “All right, forget it,” Conners said. “You can go back to town.”

  “Will you, uh, arrange for burial for your men?”

  “I’m sure Mr. Burkett will want to take care of it,” Conners said.

  “Uh, Mr. Conners, you wouldn’t know why your men went after Sam McCall, would you?”

  “No, I wouldn’t,” Conners said, “and neither would Mr. Burkett. Like you said, Sam McCall does bring that out in some men.”

  “Yeah, that he does,” Kelly said. “Well, I’ll be gettin’ back.”

  “Sure.”

  Conners watched Kelly ride back toward town, then took a few moments to formulate his story before he went in to see Burkett.

  Lincoln Burkett listened carefully to Chuck Conners’ news about the men who had been killed by Sam McCall.

  “How many did we lose?” he asked when Conners stopped talking.

  “Seven, sir.”

  “Who?”

  “Gear, Murray, Tobin, Gary, three others. I’ll have to find out who they all were.”

  Burkett slammed his hand down on the top of his desk.

  “What the hell did they think they were doing?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I guess they just saw Sam McCall, knew his reputation—”

  “I don’t want this repeated, Conners,” Burkett said. “I want you to tell all the other men they are to stay away from Sam McCall and his brothers unless they are told otherwise. Understand?”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Burkett said. “Dude Miller and his cronies are going to jump on this with both feet. Did you tell the sheriff we knew nothing about it?”

  “I did.”

  Burkett sat behind his desk quietly for a moment, then said, “Chuck, I want the editor of the newspaper out here.”

  Vengeance Creek’s newspaper, the Eagle, was a four-page publication that appeared three times a week.

  “The editor of the Eagle? Why is that?”

  “I want him to interview me about this attempt on Sam McCall’s life. I want to make it clear in the newspaper that I knew nothing about it. Get him for me.”

  “It’ll be dark in half an hour—”

  “All right, then, tomorrow, first thing, get him here.”

  “I’ll send someone—”

  “No, don’t send someone. Get him here yourself.”

  “All right, Mr. Burkett,” Conners said.

  “Now get out. I’ve got to think about what I’m going to say.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Conners left the office, closed the door behind him, and breathed a sigh of relief. From now on he’d leave thethinking to Burkett and did what he did best’take orders.

  It was good for a man to find his niche in life.

  On the way back to the hotel Sam and Jubal passed the saloon.

  “How about a drink before we go to the hotel?” Sam asked.

  “Sure, I could use one.”

  “You do drink, don’t you?”

  “Sam,” Jubal said, “I’m twenty-four, remember. I’m not a kid.”

  “Oh, yeah, I keep forgettin’.”

  They went into the saloon, which was doing a brisk business as darkness fell. More than a few men knew who Sam was and stared at him. Already word of the shootout had spread, and the stories had conveniently left out the fact that Evan and Jubal McCall were also involved. That was the way legends grew.

  They went to the bar, and Sam ordered two beers. In the mirror he could see Coffin sitting at a back table by himself, nursing a beer.

  “Make that three,” he told the bartender.

  “Who’s the third one for?” Jubal asked.

  “A new acquaintance.”

  “Who?”

  As the bartender laid the beers in front of them Sam picked up two of them and said, “Wait here and watch my back, all right?”

  “All right, Sam, but—”

  “Just stay here.”

  Sam turned and walked with two beers to Coffin’s table.

  “Need a fresh one?”

  Coffin looked up at him for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Why not?”

  Sam laid the fresh beer down in front of Coffin, and then pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

  “I didn’t know the price for the beer would be your company.”

  “Let’s cut the shit, Coffin,” Sam said. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know where, but I do know you were out on that street today, and you backshot two of those men.”

  “What men are you talking about, McCall?”

  “The beer is my way of sayin’ thanks,” Sam went on, “but I have a feeling that you weren’t helpin’ me out of the goodness of your heart. What was in it for you, Coffin?”

  “I suppose you’re talking about this already famous telegraph office shootout where you outshot seven men and killed them all?”

  “You know as well as I do how reputations are built, Coffin.”

  Coffin smiled tightly and said, “Yeah, I know, Sam.”

  “Are you workin’ for Burkett?”

  “Burkett who?”

  “All right,” Sam said, “you had your reasons for what you did. If you are workin’ for Burkett, then maybe you and I will meet, maybe that’s why you helped me out there today, I don’t know. What I do know is that I have enough to do without having to worry about you.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Sam,” Coffin said.

  “If I come for you, for whatever reason, you know I’ll come straight at you.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Sam said. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Enjoy the beer.”

  “Thanks,” Coffin said, raising the mug to Sam, “I will.”

  Sam walked back to the bar and stood next to Jubal.

  “Is that Coffin?”


  “That’s him.”

  “What was that all about?”

  Sam sipped his beer and said, “Just establishing the rules, that’s all.”

  “Rules?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said, “remember that, Jube. Every game has rules, you just have to establish them.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “And,” he added, “remember that there’s always somebody around to break them.”

  “Coffin?”

  “No, Coffin’s a pro and will go by the rules,” Sam said.

  “It’s usually the goddamned amateurs who muck everythin’ up.”

  “Like today?”

  “Exactly like today.”

  At Dude Miller’s house Evan was watching Serena prepare dinner. Actually, he was helping her.

  “I’m not used to doing this,” he said, trying desperately to peel potatoes.

  “You’re doing fine.”

  She was cutting several chickens into pieces and when she finished that she sat down and helped him peel the potatoes.

  “I’m not used to cooking for so many men,” she said.

  “We all eat the same way.”

  “But not the same amount.”

  She fell silent and looked pensive, so he left her alone with her thoughts. Eventually she would speak her mind.

  “Tell me about Sam,” she finally said.

  “I’m here and you want to talk about Sam?” he asked.

  “You really know how to flatter a guy.”

  “I’m just interested.”

  “All right,” he said, “What do you want to know about him?”

  “His reputation.”

  “Serena,” Evan said, “you’re going to have to be more specific.”

  “Is he really a killer?” she blurted.

  He stared at her for a few moments, then said, “We all killed someone today, Sam, Jube, and me.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said. “Is his reputation so…so fearsome that seven men—seven men—had to try and kill him today?”

  “There isn’t one of those men who would have had the courage to face him alone,” Evan explained. “That’s their problem, Serena.”

  “But his reputation—”

  “A reputation is like gossip,” he said. “It starts at one end of town and by the time it gets to the other end it’s grown into something entirely different.”

  “Is that true of Sam?”

  “Look,” Evan said, “I’ve seen Sam maybe three or four times in the last I don’t know how many years. I know as much about him as you do, because I’ve read and heard the same stories.”

  “But you’re his brother,” Serena said. “You know him’the real him.”

  “The real Sam McCall is what you see; Serena. Judge him on that, not on anything else.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Satisfied?”

  She smiled and said, “Yes.”

  “Good,” he said, smiling, “now maybe we can talk about me.”

  Dude Miller insisted on coming downstairs to dinner and was assisted by Evan and Jubal. Serena had also invited Ed Collins to come by and eat with them.

  “I heard what happened today,” Collins said.

  “Who could help but hear?” Miller said. “It sounded like a war.”

  “So what do you boys plan to do now?” Collins asked over dinner.

  The McCalls exchanged glances and in that moment silently chose Evan as the spokesman.

  “We plan on finding out who killed our parents.”

  “You don’t believe that your father did it himself?”

  “No,” Evan said.

  “You boys hadn’t seen your father in a long time,” Miller said. He seemed intent on playing the devil’s advocate.

  “That don’t matter,” Jubal said. He couldn’t restrain himself. “Pa wouldn’ta done that.”

  “I agree,” Dude Miller said.

  “Well, so do I,” Collins said. “How do you plan to go about it?”

  “We don’t rightly know that, Mr. Collins,” Evan said.

  “Please, call me Ed. Anybody who’s planning on making a move on Lincoln Burkett is a friend of mine.”

  “We didn’t say we were moving on Burkett.”

  “You don’t have to,” Collins said. “Anything dirty that’s happening in this town, Lincoln Burkett is behind it, take my word for it.”

  “You fellas haven’t been able to convince the Town Council of that, have you?” Sam asked.

  “Not a chance,” Miller said. “They’re blinded by what they think Burkett can do for this town.”

  “They don’t realize what he’s going to do to it,” Collins said.

  “And what’s that?” Evan asked.

  Collins sat forward and momentarily forgot about Serena’s delicious chicken and potatoes dinner.

  “He wants to put this town right under his thumb,” he said, his face reddening, “and once he’s done that he’ll sethimself to grinding it under his heel. Before long, he’ll want to change the name of the town.”

  “Well,” Jubal said, “hopefully not until we’ve made it live up to its old name.”

  “Well,” Collins said, “take my advice and concentrate your efforts on Lincoln Burkett.”

  Later, in his hotel room, Evan wished that Collins was basing his opinion on more than just a personal dislike for the man. Still, he tended to agree with the man, moreso because of the attempt on Sam’s life. Even if Burkett hadn’t sent them after Sam, Burkett’s men must have thought they’d be doing their boss some good by killing him, and since Sam and Jube and Evan himself were only in Vengeance Creek to look for their parents’ killer, there had to be a connection.

  The presence of Coffin only underscored Burkett’s involvement in his parents’ death. If Burkett had nothing to do with it, there wouldn’t be any reason for him to worry, and there wouldn’t be any reason for him to import a professional gun. He certainly didn’t need Coffin to strengthen his hold on the town. His only obstacles were Miller and Collins, and he’d already demonstrated that he had the right kind of men to handle them.

  He decided to go to sleep. All the thinking was giving him a headache. What he had to do tomorrow was find himself a poker game. He was always able to think clearest with a deck of cards in his hand.

  In his room Sam was also thinking about Burkett’s possible involvement in the death of his parents. What he couldn’t figure out was why Burkett would need to kill his parents after he’d already taken their ranch from them. What possible harm could they have done him then?

  Sam knew that Evan had already talked to Burkett but figured maybe he should take a ride out there himself tomorrow and pay his respects.

  In his room Jubal McCall was just plain restless. He thought their best bet to settle this was just to ride out to Burkett’s’to his parents’ ranch—and kill the man.

  He knew his brothers would never agree to that, but maybe he ought to surprise them and just go and do it himself.

  Serena Miller couldn’t sleep. Something had happened that she had never expected. With the arrival of the McCall brothers she found herself attracted to two of them. Actually, she was attracted to Evan, but she was intrigued by Sam. After the attempt on his life today there was an aura of danger about him. She still could not believe that someone thought it would take seven men to kill him. How could one man command that much respect—or that much fear?

  She wished she knew him better, but she doubted that there would be enough time.

  Dude Miller was excited.

  He believed that the attempt on Sam McCall’s life had set in motion a series of events that would result in the end of Lincoln Burkett. There was no way Burkett was going to come out on top of the McCall brothers—not all three of them. Sam McCall was, of course, the most dangerous of the three, as evidenced by the fact that seven men had been sent by somebody to kill him. The fact that his brothers had saved him just proved how tough the three of them woul
d be to beat.

  He didn’t know how long it would take, but Dude Miller was sure the McCalls would defeat Lincoln Burkett, andthen Vengeance Creek could get back to the task of growing on its own.

  Ed Collins sat with the gun in his lap and stared down at it. Tonight he had not laid the barrel on his tongue. He had taken it out and held it, and now he was ready to put it away.

  He wasn’t about to kill himself before he saw the outcome of the McCall-Burkett fight.

  Part Three

  Search for Vengeance

  Chapter Twelve

  Nothing happened for several days.

  The McCalls, with Serena, continued to ask questions and keep their ears open around town. At the end of each day they had dinner at Dude Miller’s house and compared notes. They were all getting used to Serena Miller’s fine cooking.

  Jubal started teasing Evan about Serena whenever he got the chance. It was obvious, he said, that Serena was sweet on Evan.

  It was obvious to Evan that although he and Serena got along quite well, it was Sam who interested her the most. What he couldn’t figure out was whether or not her interest was romantic. He rarely saw her speak to Sam, unless they were all together. She also looked at Sam with a degree of interest, and awe. Sometimes, Evan wished she would look at him that way.

  Over the course of the next several days Dude Miller improved to the point where he was no longer confined to bed. He took all his meals in the kitchen and spent most of his day in the living room.

  In the evening Evan had taken to playing poker in the saloon. If he was going to hear anything worth hearing, it would be in there.

  They decided that during the poker games Jubal and Sam would take turns standing at the bar, watching Evan’s back. Whichever one was at the bar, the other would be with Serena and Dude Miller at the house.

  Evan and Jubal left the house to go to the saloon, which left Sam to help Serena clean up after dinner.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, as he cleared the table and carried the plates and utensils to the sink.

  “It’s all right,” Sam said. “I have nothin’ better to do.”

  “Why don’t you go out into the living room with Pa and have a drink?”

  He stopped and looked at her. He was so big that standing, he dwarfed the kitchen. When he was there with her she felt crowded—and he always wore his gun. Evan and Jubal, when they were there with her, kept their guns close, but they didn’t always wear them. Sam never took his off.